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The Door at the End of the Hall
We know it’s there
Years ago, I worked for a publishing company.
A man I hardly knew recruited me from sales to the IT department, which was a great gift. He changed my life. I thought the world of this intelligent, literate, witty man. He had a nice office in the company headquarters. That is, until he didn’t.
One day, a new man moved into the nice office. My friend no longer had management responsibilities. His new role was vague and undefined. His new office was small and dark at the end of a hall.
It was the office closest to the door, literally and figuratively. We all knew what this relocation meant. It couldn’t have been more graphic if they had placed a flashing sign saying “On His Way Out” on the door. In a matter of months, he had left the company.
I thought of that often. It was a stark lesson about life: We all move closer to the door.
At 78, I know I am getting closer every day. Of course, I may be closer than I think. Some transitions out the door are subtle and take place over time, while others are more dramatic.
A plane could hit my building, as happened to two women last year when a small plane missed a runway in the middle of the night and plowed into the mobile home where they were sleeping, killing both…
